


Sodomy

by bonniebloome



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Hermione Granger Bashing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Time Travel, Tom Riddle's Diary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 16:39:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonniebloome/pseuds/bonniebloome
Summary: Harry Potter, having fallen through the veil, thought he knew everything about this timeline. Thought it would be predictable.Enter Tom Riddle's diary.-In which Harry Potter seduces diary Tom Riddle.





	1. SEDUCE

**Author's Note:**

> Props to the 'falling through the veil, going back in time' idea. I can't remember the author or book, but if you find it, please comment.

Harry Potter, twenty two and a hateful mess, never thought the veil meant this.

He hadn't meant to fall through, one minute he was there, the next he heard the voice of a dead friend. A friend that had died too young, and too soon.

He had just wanted to see Ron one last time.

Ron Weasley had died at the age of nineteen, and Harry would never forgive Hermione Granger for it.

Too selfish, too thirsty for knowledge. Of course Hermione had to drag Ron off with her to Egypt, and of course Ron would want to go.

It was plain bad luck, but Harry should have expected it. They would get locked inside of a tomb, and the emergency team had taken too long.

Then Ron, brave and ever so stupid because of it, had sacrificed himself for a bushy haired girl who didn't even like him.

(But, she would never break up with Ron.)

It had taken a toll on Harry, and Ginny had broken up with him over it. He respected her for that, he would never had been strong enough to do so if it was reversed, and he hated himself for it.

But, then came Draco Malfoy.

Merlin. It wasn't supposed to last as long as it did, but the sex, the warmth, was so nice.

He couldn't help it if he had stayed with Draco until the very end, until Draco's father had killed himself in his Azkaban cell, and his mother had died from poisoning of a suspicious tea.

Draco, on the last day that he would ever see him, told Harry that he thought his mother knew what the tea was. Knew it was poison before she brew it.

Before she drank it.

Harry's not so sure what had happened to Draco, but thinking of the Malfoy parents, he knew better to dig into things that would tear him apart.

So, when Harry fell through the veil that he thought had killed his godfather, he had been detached and mostly gay.

It was strange, though, to open his eyes and see the inside of his childhood room.

Which was the cupboard.

It had only taken him half an hour (he was in disbelief, but Aunt Petunia's voice had forced him out to make breakfast) to realise what had happen, and wasn't that a shock?

He had travelled through time.

The next six years had passed quite quickly, with the usual yearly problem being a lot easier to solve.

He hadn't bothered being sorted into Slytherin, no matter how much he thought he would, oddly, prefer this time around. He didn't want to change this new timeline too much.

But fighting with Draco, talking with Ron, these were all things he had so dearly missed. Hermione, though, he hadn't bothered saving her from the troll.

She had almost died, if hadn't been for her screams. Snape had saved her, but Hermione would be traumatized and have walking difficulties for the rest of her life.

Harry had only felt slightly bad.

Second year had been the easiest, he had grabbed the diary off of Ginny at the very start, locking it in an impenetrable trunk and burying it in the Forbidden Forest.

He hadn't been able to destroy it, the Sorting Hat was in Dumbledore's office, Harry couldn't find the Gryffindor sword, and he wasn't going to try and kill a Basilisk just for a diary.

Though he should have probably at least tried, but even then. How was he supposed to catch a rooster?

Besides, it hadn't been a problem until sixth year.

He had known it was a bad idea, he should have locked it in the Room of Requirement, or just something other than what he had done.

But instead someone had found it, and had unlocked the box. Harry couldn't understand how, but the dead students and whispering of a deadly voice had been proof enough.

He had been terrified, but Ginny was safe, and Dumbledore had gone out on a 'business trip.'

It's funny, how different things turn out.

So, instead of Draco being a problem this year, it had been, what Harry suspects, Dumbledore. Harry had known it wouldn't be so easy, he could fix so many things, but nothing would ever be normal.

So there Harry Potter stood, in the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, old Dumbledore on the the ground, pale faced.

It was so similar to what had happened last time, except it wasn't Ginny laying on the stone, and Harry wasn't so naive anymore.

Tom Riddle had never looked so smug, so evil, then in that moment.

Harry walked slowly towards him, wand in hand and mind set on hurting that slimy bastard.

"And you are?" Harry laughed then, and held his wand out, of course Riddle wouldn't know who he was, Dumbledore would know what the diary was the moment he saw it.

Touched it.

"Me? I'm Harry James Potter, and I think you need to step away from Dumbledore before I make you," he said as he got closer, hesitating in step as he saw Riddle pull out a wand from behind his back.

He wasn't surprised that Riddle would have the Elder wand, it made Harry think of how he must have manipulated Dumbledore, a feat in itself, to be able to control him enough to get him down here.

"Oh, a brave boy, we have here... So you know Dumbledore, do you know who I am?" It was all pleasant smooth talk, and if Harry didn't have such good control over himself, he might have swooned.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, heir to Slytherin, a Horcrux, a fifty year old memory saved in a diary. I know all about you, Tom." He watched as the dead eyed smile fell, and instead was replaced with a red gleam sneer.

"And I know all about your dirty secrets, because it's not surprising some basket case like you would make an alias out of their own pathetic muggle heritage." Riddle twitched then, nose scrunching up for a split second, and Harry almost shuddered in anticipation.

"That's right, isn't? You're a pathetic halfblood, and Marvolo is the only wizarding part of your name." Riddle smiled, and it was more frightening then the red eyes, the dead glare, the sharp teeth.

Perhaps he shouldn't have spilled his guts, been seen as naive could have helped him. But he had just wanted to get one up on that stupid, smug bastard.

"Oh, a smart one, have we?" Riddle walked closer, twirling a wand that Harry thinks he must not know the true power of.

Harry shrugged with a heat in his chest, staying still with a disarming spell coming up his throat.

He was too slow though, because before he knew it his wand was sailing through the air. Riddle reached up and effortlessly grabbed it, pocketing the wand and stepping closer still.

Now he truly was defenceless.

"From everything else you've said, there'll be no doubt you know what's happening to Dumbledore, correct?" Riddle smiled brighter, stopping three feet in front of Harry, wand now held limp in his hand.

Harry had never realised how tall Riddle was.

"I'm surprised he's not already dead, I didn't know he had that much energy in him. Or soul, for that matter," Harry muttered with a feeling pooling in his gut, fear mixed in with something else.

Riddle snickered, bringing up the wand in a stance that seemed merciless, and Harry could already see the Killing Curse on his lips.

Harry had to do something before he was killed. Merlin, it seems he had done better when twelve then sixteen.

And that's not counting all the years Harry had lived before in the other timeline.

Then, because Harry has brilliant plans and thoughts and ideas, he stepped forward, adopting the person that he was sure Draco only saw.

Maybe that's because Draco was the only man he had ever been with.

"Tom Riddle, I've heard even more then that about you," Riddle faulted, wand pointing down slightly as Harry stepped closer.

Riddle didn't bother stepping back.

"Sorted into Slytherin, no true friends. Smarter then anyone else, the greatest wizard of his century. You must have been lonely," Harry whispered, face relaxing, shoulders slouching.

Harry knew how to make himself look small, he knew how to bring out his feminine features.

Riddle now stood completely still, dark brown eyes gleaming red staring through him, wand hanging limp. Harry had his attention.

"Hated. Misunderstood. A strange boy that nobody liked, because they couldn't figure you out. You were different." Harry swallowed, bringing his eyes back up to Riddle, because they had unknowingly fallen to the floor.

Riddle was breathing through his nose, jaw clenched, eyes not seeing him anymore. Harry wasn't sure or not if the hatred was directed at him, or at someone else.

"But I understand you. Not completely, just enough. You didn't deserve this life." Riddle's eyes sharply refocused on him, and Harry's breath hitched.

This could take awhile, but Harry didn't really feel like rushing this. Besides, Ginny had lasted long before Harry had gotten her help.

"And you, you understand? How foolish," Riddle spat, wand in Harry's face, when did he suddenly get so close?

Harry had to do something now, though. Because Riddle looked like he was close enough to killing Harry, that his next words may be the last he would ever hear.

"I understand enough to know you're a young, lonely male. Everyone needs someone to understand every now and then." Slowly, as to not startle Riddle, who now looked almost confused, Harry took another step before kneeling.

If talking isn't doing it for him, he may as well put his mouth to better uses.

Riddle froze, breath hitching in his throat as Harry leaned close to his belt, a question dying on Riddle's lips.

"Besides, this might help me just as much as it will help you," Harry brings his hands up to Riddle's belt buckle, undoing it and slowly pulling the trousers down.

"Stop, stop this sodomy..." Riddle's hands were in his hair, unmoving but heavy. If Harry thought about it hard enough, he would have questioned what had happened to the Elder wand.

Harry leaned forward even closer to the bulge in Riddle's boxers, and Harry's not sure if he should keep calling him Riddle, or Tom.

Well, if he's going to be intimate...

"Are you sure you want me to stop Tom, because I've heard I have a lovely mouth." To prove his point, Harry looked up into Tom's eyes, mouthing at the slowly growing bulge.

Tom's breath was uneven now, and Harry wanted to hear him moan.

Harry shuffled closer, mouthing until the cloth separating Harry's mouth and Tom's dick was soaked. Tom was breathing in short gasps now, threading his fingers into Harry's hair, and Harry threw his glasses behind him.

It was when Harry was tugging down Tom's boxers that he was pushed away.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing!" Tom was now trying to gain back some of his dignity, pulling up his trousers and picking up the Elder wand that he had dropped.

Harry, now sitting on his arse, ran his hands through his hair. He had bought time, but now he was sure that Tom was going to kill him.

"Well Tom, in this era sex is a lot easier going. Even for us witches and wizards, you did realise Dumbledore's gay, right?" Harry licked his lips as he watched Tom try and calm his breathing, proud he had caused such a cold hearted bastard to get so flustered.

"Doesn't make it right," Tom snapped, pointing the wand at Harry once again.

"But I can make you feel so good, Tom. So warm... Please." Harry crawled closer to the other teenager, realising with hope that Tom hadn't killed him yet.

Harry was at Tom's feet when he decided to take a different route, standing up to his full hight. He still had to look up to reach Tom's eyes.

Tom looked confused, his eyes searching, his wand twitching in his hands.

Harry was so close to death, he could touch it.

"I don't need warmth, especially from a scrawny mutt like you." Tom's hair had curled at the ends, the humid air in the Chamber of Secrets almost warm, but wet.

"I'm a halfblood, Tom. My father had married a muggleborn. We're not so different." Harry felt as if he had one up on Tom, at least both his parents had magical blood.

Tom faltered at that, Harry watched as Tom bit the inside of his cheek.

Staring at Tom's cheek turned into staring at Tom's mouth, and who could blame him if Harry lost himself in seducing Tom.

It was as if Tom was seducing him, too. Even if unknowingly.

Harry, just as Tom opened his mouth to say something, stood on his tippy toes to reach Tom's mouth, kissing him softly with the mindset of being killed then and there.

Tom didn't push him away, and Harry heard the sound of a wand falling and hitting stone.

Harry, encouraged and almost choking on emotions, moved his head and kissed Tom more, even if the other boy wasn't kissing back.

It was when Harry brought his hand up to Tom's head, fingers finding the sweaty curls at the base of the neck, that Tom sighed, and slouched into the kiss.

Tom kissed him back with the lips of someone who had never been kissed before, mostly unmoving until Harry pulled back for breath, chasing Harry's mouth to only wait for him to initiate the kiss again.

Harry decided he wanted to make Tom feel good, at least as much as he could. Because if Tom was a virgin; a controlled, unlovable virgin, then he needed to at least experience this.

Harry took a step closer, threading his fingers even more into Tom's hair, Tom's hands nudging, moving slowly against Harry's sides.

Harry licked Tom's bottom lip, eyes closed and ears trying to pick up on all the little sounds Tom was making.

Tom hesitantly opened his mouth slowly, fingers brushing against Harry's waist.

Toms instincts knew what to do, but Tom was probably good at ignoring such human things.

Harry kissed him more deeply, swallowing Tom's gasp, his hands resting lightly on Harry's hips, almost unnoticed.

Harry pulled back so both could catch their breath, nudging at Tom's throat, mouthing his adam apple, smiling at the little hisses Tom let out when Harry nipped.

This time, when Harry turned up to initiate the kiss, Tom leant down and kissed him, causing Harry to gasp slightly.

Harry kissed Tom with a pooling in his stomach, a heart in his throat. Tom, Tom kissed Harry back with eagerness hidden under all that boiling warmth.

He liked this a lot more, because when Tom Riddle got the hang of something, he did it well.

Harry moaned, stepping forward again so they were closer, so close he wasn't sure we he stopped and Tom begun.  
Tom pulled back first this time, and Harry was worried he had done something wrong.

When he looked up into Tom's dark brown eyes, because they were so dark now, he didn't see disgust, or hatred, or the eyes of a man about to kill.

He couldn't tell a lot, but if there was anything in those closed off eyes, there was lust.

"Come with me, my neck's getting sore," Tom said as he turned around abruptly, Harry walking quickly as Tom Summond the Elder wand and walked towards a door that Harry was sure wasn't there before.

They walked through the doorway, Harry following Tom to a bed that was magically cleaned as they walked towards it.

Harry was so hot and bothered, removing his outer robe, undressing until he was shirtless and crawling onto the bed.

Tom stood there, beside him awkwardly, not looking at Harry as much as Harry was looking at him.

"Oh come on Tom, don't tell me we're in here to just sit and stand quietly." Tom sneered at him with a heat that caused Harry to shiver, through blurry eyes he could see a blush painting Tom's face.

"Quiet, or I'll make you quiet!" It was a snapping remark that caused Harry to make a sound in his throat, a sound that he was sure Tom heard. That hard glint, that red gleam, Harry could see a ghost of it.

"Make me, Tom," Harry softly said, so close to a whisper that he didn't want to admit his fear, his arousal.

It hadn't sunk in yet, and it probably never will.

Tom bared his teeth and threw the wand at a nightstand that Harry couldn't be bothered caring for.

Harry whimpered and rubbed his thighs together, throwing his head back while keeping eye contact. Tom licked the back of his teeth, eyeing Harry with an air of anger, and something else.

Harry had him now.

Tom walked over to the bed, and Harry thrusts his hips up into the air, wanton and hot and everything he knew wasn't usually him.

Harry watched as Tom threw off his robe, running both hands through damp, curling hair. Harry couldn't help sitting up and crawling towards him, watching Tom watch him, he was so warm.

Tom kneeled onto the bed, turning his head to the side like a little, evil puppy. Harry watched through a blurry lens, crawling closer still.

He sat up and pulled Tom carefully, slowly, onto the blanket fully. Tom was the one crawling now and Harry sat at the end of the bed, waiting for Tom to turn around and rest against the headboard.

When he did, Harry pounced, crawling until he could reach the warm, sweaty teenager.

When he could, Harry pulled at the green and silver tie around Tom's neck, loosening it enough to throw behind him. Then, his fingers ran down Tom's chest, trying to undo the shirts buttons, Tom helping but probably causing it to take longer.

They both slowed once their hands brushed together.

Once the shirt was unbuttoned, Harry pulled it completely off and threw it behind him, running his hands slowly up and down Tom's chest.

Tom didn't have a lot of muscle, but he made Harry's mouth water. Lanky, tall, slender. Harry crept closer to nose at his collarbone and neck, loving the noises Tom made.

Tom's hand touched Harry's face, causing him to look up into Tom's eyes, seeing almost nothing there, but lust.

Harry pulled back slowly, not missing the confusion in Tom's eyes. Harry groaned, climbing into Tom's lap, leaning down to kiss the corner of his lips.

Tom groaned, leaning up to catch Harry's mouth.

Harry deepened the kiss, but gave in willingly to Tom, grinding slowly into him, both groaning at the friction.

Tom pushed Harry out of his lap and onto his back, Harry opening his legs and Tom crawling between them.

Harry, so desperate for him now, almost sobbed when Tom threaded a hand through Harry's hair, kissing him so soft and sweet, the Boy-Who-Lived wrapping his legs around Tom's waist and grinding up.

They both moaned into each-others mouths, Harry pulling at strands of Tom's hair, not caring of anyone else in the universe, because there was no one else.

Harry pushed at Tom's shoulders, sitting up with his mouth still on Tom's.

Tom was on his back, gasping when Harry wriggled and edged backwards until he was face to face with Tom's bulge, larger then before.

"What are you-" Tom was suddenly cut off as Harry tugged off both his trousers and his boxers, belt still being undone.

Harry had to look back up at Tom's red, embarrassed face to gain control of his senses again. It was a fairly big dick, bigger then his, he wasn't too sure about it compared to Draco's, though.

To be fair, Draco was twenty-one when they first started, and this Tom is sixteen.

So yeah, since Tom was sixteen, and Harry was pretending to be, the dick was pretty nice. Harry hadn't done anything for the past minute but stare, he wouldn't have noticed if Tom hadn't started fidgeting.

As a sorry, Harry didn't tease this time round, leaning on his forearms, laying on the inside of Tom's legs, Harry leant down and took the red tip, leaking with precum, into his mouth.

Tom gasped and thrusts forward slightly, both hands gripping so tight into Harry's hair.

Harry leant on one hand, cock still in mouth and grabbing the rest of the length with his other. Tom was groaning and gasping, swearing in parsletongue that made Harry hot all over.

Harry swirled his tongue around the tip, sucking and moaning, pumping his hand slowly up and down Tom's cock, enjoying the short gasps and throaty moans, washing over Harry like warm summer's rain.

Harry, encouraged by soft moans and the pull of his hair, takes more of the warm, salty cock in-between his lips, inching more and more of it into his mouth until he almost gags on it, loosening his jaw so the heavy girth sits comfortable on his tongue, forcing himself to breath through his nose.

There's still enough left that his hand can wrap around it.

Tom's swearing when Harry begins to move his mouth, bobbing his head as he drags his tongue up the underside.

He must be doing something right, because after a few short minuets, or long seconds, a warm salty liquid rushes down his throat, Tom thrusting forward and causing him to gag slightly Harry swallowed almost all of it, the rest dripping out of the corner of his mouth to mix with the saliva that pooled there.

Harry pulls back, giving one last lick before sitting up and reaching over to search around the nightstand, giving Tom a chance to collect himself.

Harry sits back up on the bed with wand in hand, turning to Tom who has barely moved at all, arm covering his eyes, gasps still passing his lips and, Harry's looking at Tom's blurry form for the first time now, is surprised that he hadn't marked him from top to bottom in love bites.

Harry casts a spell that gets rid of all the mess, Tom shudders as he removes his arm, not looking Harry in the eye.

He almost feels bad, seeing Tom in such a vulnerable state. A state Tom had never been in before.

Harry almost felt incredibly bad.

Tom pulls up his boxers and trousers, almost ignoring Harry as the latter crawled closer to lay beside the now stiff body, feeling hollow and empty inside.

Like someone had cut him open, scooped all his insides out, and replaced them with cotton and bad intentions.

Tom rolls over onto his side away from him, hunched into himself, Harry didn't move closer, and decided to roll over as well.

"We're not doing anything else, if you don't want to," Tom nods as an answer, but doesn't speak again. Harry never expected him to.

Harry falls asleep, thinking of a Dumbledore that had been dead for a lot longer then today, a hand blackened partially because of the boy he was laying next too.

And yet, Harry couldn't find it in him to want to kill Tom


	2. OMINOUS

When he woke up, he couldn't breath.

He found it strange, but breath escaped him, and he wondered if his body was trying to tell him something. He opened his eyes to a room he had never seen before, and his hazy memory supplied him with an answer.

Tom Riddle twitched in his sleep. 

Harry realised that, watching the young Dark Lord. The moment he opened his eyes, sore and surely red, his gaze centered on the naked, pale back of Tom.

Harry shivered, chest naked and Tom having stolen the blanket, as he tried to mentally prepare a plan. Seemingly impossible after just sucking off his enemy. This man had killed, or would (hypothetically) kill, his parents.

If he weren't so drained, Harry would have vomited up the contents in his stomach. Which, horrifically enough, included Tom's spunk.

While laying there, thinking this all over, Tom must have woken up. Now that Harry focused, Tom's breathing had changed and his body was unnaturally still. Harry flinched when Tom unexpectedly sat up.

Tom didn't speak, didn't even look in Harry's direction. He watched as Tom got off the bed, and searched for his missing articles of clothing. Harry moved to look for the Elder Wand, finding it stuck behind the nightstand.

When he turned around to look at Tom, the latter was sitting on the end of the bed, pulling on his shoes (had Harry taken them off when he was seducing Tom? Or had Tom taken them off himself?), Harry didn't move to give him back the wand.

He wasn't sure where his own wand was, but it would be a bit curious for Tom to have removed it from his pants. Actually, he wouldn't be surprised if Tom had.

Harry's head was a fish bowl this morning.

He stood up and pulled his oxford shirt on, looking around for his tie and outer robe. He was still looking around wondering why everything was so blurry when he realised something was missing.

He would have went to go pick his glasses up, if he weren't so afraid of Tom killing him the moment he turned his back.

"Well, this was lovely, but I really should go. I wouldn't mind having my wand returned to me." Harry jumped at that, and looked up at the now towering Slytherin. He looked ready to take the wand back, not simply letting Harry give it back to him.

"Wait!" Tom scoffed as he turned around to face a mirror off to the side of where Harry was standing, hand going up to fix his prefect badge.

"Look, it seems Dumbledore has died in the night, so don't think there's any way you're going to stop me long enough to try and save your pathetic professor. He's already gone, now give me back the wand." Harry swallowed and stood up, a thought unreadable flying through his mind.

"W-what about Voldemort?" Tom turned around at that, facing Harry straight on as the other boy licked his lips as he thought about it.

"You're a fifty year old memory, Tom. There's already a Lord Voldemort out there; what do you think he's going to do with you?" Tom started then, taking a fast step towards Harry, hands coming up as if to grab him by the throat.

Instead, he sat down on the bed, posture rod straight.

Now that Harry thought about it, he had to sit down, too. Not wanting to die then and there, Harry leaned back to sit on top of the nightstand.

How would Wizarding Britain survive with two Dark Lord's running around? How would Harry come out on top? He had already went to bed with one.

He ran his fingers through his hair, staring at the damp, stone ceiling.

Would Voldemort kill Tom? Or would he lock him away, to use for bones and flesh for when Tom Riddle Senior's bones turn to dust?

In any situation, Harry couldn't let them meet, for fear of what would happen. Harry looked over at Tom, and saw the other breath a laugh. Tom knew what would happen, or at least had a gist of it.

He turned to look at him, lips twitching and fingers tapping at the crumpled sheets.

"How did you know so much, about me? I was before your time." Harry rubbed at his nose, stretching his legs as he decided he was going to come clean.

Well, as clean as he could without it being a death wish.

"Well, Dumbledore was giving me lessons on you. Apparently, I was best equipped to take down... Lord Voldemort, the one running about right now." He cringed with disgust, not missing the down turn of Tom's lips.

He was basically dead, how was he supposed to return back to school now? He had to keep Tom away from Voldemort, or at least keep him from asking about recent events. Tom finding out about one year old Harry wouldn't do him too much good. That's the least he needs, two Dark Lords after him.

Then, because Harry has brilliant plans and thoughts and ideas, he sat forward, eyes glazing over and an erratic smile cracking his dried lips.

"I have an idea. How about we run away, and go into hiding. I can help you, because I know about your history, and the history of your future self that's yet to happen. It's not like you can just go back to school, and I actually exist in this timeline." The moment he said it his faced drained of colour, but Tom looked at him sharply. Harry had a feeling he didn't mind his proposition too much.

"Why would you help me?" Tom stood up and took Harry's wand out of his pocket, holding it more casually then Harry thought possible. He looked more at ease then he did holding the Elder Wand.

"Because you would kill me otherwise. This way, if I go with you, I won't tell anyone important of what's happened." Harry stood up now, shaking with hair falling in his eyes.

Besides, if Tom didn't believe that, Harry could just play it off as a crush. It would be easy enough.

"Fine, we'll need to get untraceable wands. But, as we are going to be trusting eachother," Tom handed back Harry's wand (it was almost hesitant, Tom's grip was a tad bit tighter then needed be), and Harry gave him the Elder Wand.

It was strange, but the wand felt almost like a stick, a normal piece of wood. Not the wand he had left back in his old life.

Sneaking out of the school was easier then Harry thought should be possible. It seemed to be dinner, and Harry almost wanted to walk into the Great Hall to sit besides Ron and eat.

But Tom said they were on a tight schedule, and wouldn't even let Harry go up to his dorm to pack his trunk. Harry hopes he'll be able to send Ron a letter, maybe the latter will be able to shrink his trunk and send it.

They casted as many heating charms (Tom's charm weaker then Harry's, Vanishing Dumbledore's corpse taking its toll) as they could before leaving the grounds, snow falling around them, both being thankful when they made it to Hogsmeade.

Both boys had to cast glamour charms on themselves before walking into the Hogs Head, always open in the late hours of the night. Flooing to the Leaky Cauldron had both sneezing and sniffling, but it was better then the other options.

They booked a room that Harry promised he would pay for tomorrow, unsure on wether or not he would. Harry slept on the couch while Tom slept on the bed, both too stubborn to actually sleep, for fear of the other escaping.

Or... well, Harry would have fought tooth and nail if Tom came near him.

Already deep regret and remorse was setting dark within, coating his bones and etching lines into his flesh.

When the sun came up, Harry didn't bother showering or anything of the like. He waited until Tom came out of the bathroom, both ignoring eachother while getting ready to head downstairs, casting more glamours charms on eachother.

The Leaky Cauldron was hardly empty, people milling about as if it were the middle of the day in summer. They dressed like it, too.

It was when both went to walk out to the back, where the entrance of Diagon Alley was that Harry's stomach dropped. He pulled Tom over to a table, looking into the strange blue eyes he knew not to be normal.

"T-Tom? I don't want to do this anymore. Can we please go back to Hogwarts?" Tom sneered, grabbing Harry's wrist so tight he would have winced if he wasn't frozen in fear.

"Oh really? Too bad, we're doing this now. The only way your getting out of this is in a casket." Harry let himself be dragged to the entrance of Diagon Alley, let himself be dragged past all the people to Gringotts. 

The goblins didn't blink an eye when Harry said he wanted to make a withdrawal of four hundred galleons, giving him an expandable pouch to hold it all in.

When they entered Knockturn Alley, Tom pulled him close, slouching so his mouth was beside Harry's ear, who shivered at the warm breath.

"You will walk in there by yourself, and you'll ask for Noto Devanagari, say you're a friend of Meetei Mayek. There he will sell you two untraceable wands, give him as much money as he asks for. Don't tell him your name."

Harry moved his head slightly to look at Tom, who was now slinging an arm across Harry's shoulders.

When they had stopped, he was able to appreciate the fact that hardly anyone else was about. Perhaps they were hiding.

Harry looked up, snowflakes floating past him and burning holes through his cheeks. It was a small, crooked building with a sign nailed haphazardly into the wooden door, nails sticking out slightly.

The outside of 'FONTS' was a bit pathetic, though Tom walked away slowly from him to rest against the wall across, looking pale with a strangers face hiding his own.

When Harry walked in there, he wasn't expecting the young man. Harry eyed him, the stranger was leaning over a tall counter, a black cigarette hanging from his lips as he clacked at the keys of a typewriter, black paper shaking with each indent of ink.

Harry turned to look out the windows for Tom, but only saw a black expanse, stars and comets and planets floating lazily and shooting past, as if held up by strings on a mobile.

When he turned back to the man, Harry was met with two black eyes.

"What can I help you with?" The man, a tad bit older then Harry, was dressed in a black suit, hair close-shaved, with black smudges covering his skin and face. He was intimidating.

"I'm, I'm looking for a Noto Devanagari? I'm a friend of Meetei Mayek?" He shuffled uncomfortably, eyeing the unmoving man for a second, pulling his cloak around him more tightly. Just as unease was creeping up his throat, the man nodded and walked towards a door, waving a hand for Harry to follow.

The moment Harry entered the room, he winced. The man closed the door behind them, and leaned against the huge printing press, working overtime with ink puddling around it. The noise deafening, he wanted to cover his ears.

Harry watched as the man crouched down to dip his fingers into the closest puddle of ink, standing up again and moving closer to Harry.

He didn't move when the man brought his fingers up to Harry's face, drawing something with the black substance (Harry watched the dripping mess, he was sure he could see stars in the ink) on his forehead.

His vision blurred and brightened, things becoming clear then blurring even more. When it stopped, he could see again. Perhaps not as good as before, but he didn't notice.

Harry tried to shout over the noise, but the man shook his head and walked back to the door, bringing his fingers to draw something on his own forehead.

When Harry entered the shop for a second time, he was sure he was someplace else.

The shop windows were filled with galaxies and suns, bright enough to light the room. Wands and cabinets and ornaments lined the walls, even a few typewriters and fountain pens. There was a small table near the door, papers coloured white resting on top, Harry couldn't see any other colour, though he was sure they couldn't be that ordinary.

Not in a shop like this.

When Harry turned around, the hood of his cloak falling behind him, the man from before had disappeared.

Now was an old demon-like figure, skin wrinkled eyes black, and nails long like claws. Harry stared at the curved bones that came out of the old man's forehead, almost like horns.

"Now young man, please grab a basket, and get what you need. Everything has a price."

Harry hesitantly walked over to the counter, grabbing a wooden basket while watching the old man. Ink still on his forehead, almost drawn like a rune.

Harry walked slowly to the wands, finding few normal looking ones, most carved with runes or snakes. One even had the story of a dark wizard drawn on its side.  
It took him five minutes, but he found two that slightly buzzed in his hand, humming and warm.

Looking up at the old man, Harry decided to grab an enchanted map, one that when folded, looked normal. It was when you unfolded it, and tapped it in the middle with a wand that the map changed. The drawn buildings came to life and grew, colours becoming more vivid. Harry could even see little people milling about, no bigger then ants.

It was a map of a miniature Diagon and Knockturn Alley.  
Harry took his little, woven basket up to the front counter, nerves choking him. The old man nodded at him, and asked for a hundred galleons for each wand, and ninety galleons for the map.

"Thank you sir, I best be going now." Harry shook the old man's hand and turned to leave, wands and map hidden in his cloak pockets. He was almost at the door, hand wrapped around the handle, when the old man spoke once more.

"Well, Mr. Potter, it would be most smart to rub that rune off. Wouldn't want to alert everyone of who you really are." Harry jumped, turning around to the old man rubbing at his forehead, Harry stood there shocked as the man from before stood in place behind the counter.

Harry made sure to rub at his own skin, checking his reflection in the door, copper hair straight instead of his own.

He said goodbye for the last time, making sure to get out of that shop as quick as possible.

When he exited the building, Tom was still the same, though Harry wasn't sure if he should have expected something else.

It was darker then when they had left the Leaky Cauldron, snow falling lazily to rest on the ground, melting and forming into something else. Tom didn't bother with pleasantries, asking him if they had any money left.

After going to Gringotts and withdrawing another four hundred galleons, they walked back to the Leaky Cauldron, giving Tom (the inn keeper, though the Tom beside him was uncomfortable with the shared title) the galleons they had owed.

"We can't stay here again tonight, it's too risky." So both walked out of the small wizarding pub, walking onto the streets of Muggle London.

Tom being slightly gobsmacked was entertaining, eyes wide and feet stopping slightly near all the different store fronts.

"Half a century pasts, and suddenly there's all these new things about... Why does that lady have metal balls in her face? Oh my, what's that thing that person's using, why is he talking into it? Why is his hair that colour?" Harry shuffled behind him, a warm smile creeping along his lips.

Tom being slightly gobsmacked was entertaining, more so then Harry thought could be possible. Guess the Dark Lord is human, after all.

At least this version, anyway

**Author's Note:**

> There was another few thousand words for this, and there was going to be a story line. It was accidentally deleted via one of the apps (I lost my laptop charger, so I'm writing on my phone) I was using. Hopefully, because I took notes, I will be able to continue it when I find the energy. I just didn't feel like 1940s Tom Riddle, as cold and unloving a boy he is, would ever just have sex straight up, especially if he had a good long minute to think on it clearly. Thank you for reading and leaving Kudos', i much appreciate it.


End file.
